The Phoenix

A young boy awoke from his slumber. He glanced over at the clock on his night stand; it was now one thirty in the morning. He listened intently for the sound that woke him in the first place. He wasn’t sure what it was but the boy was scared. He had told his mom to check under his bed for monsters but she was adamant that there were none in the house. She told him that she had monster proofed the house before they moved in. He shouldn’t have believed her.

This was the third house they had lived in over the past six months but they were always found. He was getting tired of running away. Maybe his mom should just do as she was asked. It would make it easier for both of them. He wouldn’t have to keep changing houses and schools. There is only so much a six year old boy can take.

Then he heard it again.

A loud thud shook through the walls followed by a low groan. He shot up from his bed shaking in fear. He opened his mouth to call out for his mother but something in his gut told him not to. He leaned over to his night stand and quietly opened up the draw pulling out a small flashlight. His mother had given it to him in case the power went out.

He clicked the flashlight on and held his breath as bent over the side of the bed. His heart was thudding at a thousand miles per hour as he slowly and carefully lowered his head over the side to peer underneath his bed. A chill ran along his spine as he finally reached the edge and was able to see under his bed. He swept the beam of light across and found nothing. The little boy exhaled the breath he had been holding. His mom was right there were no monsters under the bed.

BAM!

The boy shrieked as he heard the noise again almost falling off the side of the bed. His flashlight dropped from his hand as he pulled his head back onto the bed. It rolled onto the floor and spun a few times before it settled next to his closet door.

The closet!

He had forgotten about there. Monsters loved closets also.

The boy was scared. He sat on his bed debating whether he should go after his flashlight and check the closet. He finally got the courage and decided to just go for it. He was being rather brave for a six year old. He swung his legs over the bed confident that nothing was going to grab at him from under his bed and slowly stood up. He tip toed across the room his heartbeat speeding up with every step and after what seemed a lifetime the boy finally reached the flashlight. He bent forward to grab the flashlight.

BAM! BAM!

He picked it up and ran feeling the loud thuds vibrating through the walls. Screw this! He was going to get his mother.

Thankfully her room was right next to his. He opened his door and looked out. The hall was pitch black but he could faintly see light filtering underneath the door to his mother’s room. She was probably awakened by the noise as well. He flicked his flashlight up and down the hall before running to the door and grabbing the knob.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

He pulled his hand back as if he had just been shocked. The noise seemed to be coming from her room. The groaning seemed to be increasing. The monsters had gotten inside his mom’s room. He stared at the door like it was some kind of strange object. He half expected whatever creature that was on the inside to burst through the door and grab him at any moment. He was no longer safe here. He had to get out.

But he had to save his mom too.

He mustered whatever courage that was left in his six year old body and opened the door slightly. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

Three men stood naked in the room with one on top and one beneath his mother while the other stood not too far off fervently snapping away with a camera. The bed quivered with each deep thrust of the large man that was on top of her, slamming into the wall. He quickly shut the door and slid to the floor. He had caught his mom in the act before but this it was different. She wasn’t screaming out and moaning like she had done in the past. He knew something was wrong. There was blood everywhere; on the sheets, on the floor and on the walls. His mother’s face looked pale and her legs had deep purple bruises on them. He didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that the blood everywhere was hers.

He had to get out but something in his head was telling him to do something else. He hurried down the stairs to the kitchen not worrying about whether anyone heard him or not. They were too busy to care anyway. The boy opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a bottle. He had seen his mother use it before to light up the old lamp when the power went out.

He didn’t know what came over him as he picked up the lighter but he knew exactly what he had to do.

The little boy ran back up the stairs to his room and grabbed his blanket and a photograph and slipped it into his underwear for safe keeping. It was one of him and his mother at the beach. They were sitting wrapped in each others arms as the waves crashed in front of them. She had told him that his father had taken the picture. He was murdered that same night.

The boy opened the bottle and let drops of the liquid fall onto his bed and floor then moved out into the hall creating a trail. He put an extra amount in front of the door to his mother’s room then continued to the bathroom and spare room upstairs before moving downstairs coating the floors of the kitchen, living room and dining room. He threw the bottle in the fireplace before lighting up one of the logs. It burst into flames with such a force that he had to shield his eyes. Sweat trickled down his little body as the intense heat spread moving closer and closer to him. He turned and lit up one of the sofas and watched from a distance as the fire engulfed the whole living room. He then walked out the door.

His work was done.

He never told anyone how he made it out alive. The never suspected that a six year old would burn down a house with his mother and three men in it. When they found the bodies they were unrecognizable and all traces of the murder the men had committed was gone. But he knew the truth and would hold it with him to his death. It wasn’t until his senior year at high school that Jack realized that the voice egging him on that night was the Phoenix.